The pulsing heat in his shoulder was a thing that would linger. He knew that scars needed to be made, and knew that the pain now was something he would need to feel again. This did not matter. The bear had cut his haunch deeply during its final hour, and that incident had solidified a loyalty that Larkspur would never break. Until Sirius fell, the dark wolf would serve him. Unlike Haku, the poison-eyed hybrid was someone who would not go mad with demons in his heart. Sirius would conquer them.
Both ears flared back to listen to her, for he did not feel comfortable moving until she dismissed him. She spoke of her home, and spoke of her blood. He studied the shape of her face as best he could without being rude, and wondered if he had missed this because she willed it. Magic, after all, was a powerful thing. “I don’t know much ‘bout coyotes,” he still pronounced the word with the thick “kai-yoat” as it had been learned in the Appalachians. “, but I know they’re damned clever. So I’d imagine yer blood can be whatever y’want it to be.”
He shrugged and winced slightly, though it was a faint gesture he quickly tried to bury.
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